Sometimes we hide. Sometimes we freeze. And it’s ok. I believe in a god who stands guard while we fall apart, hands us glue, isn’t offended when we can’t use the spiritual kit of tools right away, and loves us, in pieces or whole, exactly the same but weeps for us when we reject ourselves and our humanity.
…and fear. let fear not be your beast or ghost, your roadmap or process. so often we think quenching or dampening the fear is the solution. that’s not bravery: that’s slavery. an action taken solely to quiet a fear leads, inevitably, to more fear, more pain, more problems. but the one based on faith, on radical courage and enlightened bravery…that’s where the miracle is, where the stillness falls, the well-spring from which all solutions (not fixes) emerge.
We are the the stuff of the earth, of novas and wreckage, of stars
Bodies in a gravity bond
Falling together
Destined pieces of heaven
Unalarmed
And ringing in orbit
The center of quiet fire
In blue on a promenade. A vacuous Friday.
I want to remember it rained but I don’t know about a storm.
Black grey skies, vengeful ocean clouds.
Oh. Those. Yes. Maybe it was those,
Gathering above these tumbled limbs,
and bright sloppy sweater
Perhaps angry enough to drive an echo after you
through the miles of sky and sand
that fetched our reflections from towers of limestone,
Leaving us sharp or hallow
With whining time and her bitchy entourage
Our braile faces carved
Our compensation castle, perfect and dusty,
a place only in us,
a plan in motion, always in motion, where,
like the sandstone foundation Buddha’s teple,
epochs of new growth
must, just MUST,
upend the pillars and split solid floors,
tripping and stretching our grace so quiet.
